Sanura
by NovaSinopa
Summary: Sanura was an Egyptian Princess, sister of Nefetiri, daughter to Pharaoh Seti I. She placed the curse on Imotep after her father death left her and the kingdom in devastation, tearing apart the two sisters lives. 1000's of years later Charlotte O'Connel is thrown into an adventure to Hamunaptra where she will not only discover her ancient past life but also a medji. Ardeth/OC
1. Chapter 1

The eye of Ra rose high and steady in the form of an Egyptian sun, watching all the land laid before him. Beauty etched into the very landscape, the desert, his desert the most beautiful landmark of all. Swirling flurries of golden sand dusted the cliff faces like golden icing sugar, piling delicately on to the ever moving dunes. He was proud and happy with the scene, little troubled with the people within it. Yet upon the evershifting canvas he so admired a battle raged.

French legionnaires, tired and worn, lay scattered behind the protection of a ruin. It was ancient and cracked with age, the painfully crafted details worn to a sand coloured spattering of fallen stones and crumbling arches. In front of them rode a seething mass of scimitars. Horses foaming as hooves sunk against the sand, men screaming with deaths wail as they charged the foreign soldiers.

One man looked into the deathly oncoming torrent and he was not afraid. He stared at the raging torrent of warriors and he didn't fear his death. No he did not fear his death but he had to live. He had to liver for her, his sister. They were closer than siblings could ever be seen to be, if he should die here this day this hour she would be left alone. A woman lost in the streets of Cairo. She had no money to speak of, neither of them did and the money they did have was stolen, as were most of their possessions. If he died in this forsaken tomb then she would fade away into the backdrop of Cairo life. He dreaded to think what would await her there.

Steadying himself as the Bedouin riders neared, he checked his gun running his hand along the handle admiring the smoothness, not long now. Around him torrents of men ran to their post, the sweet smell of fear rolling of them in waves. He didn't blame them. Captain Allonette Dumoir turned tail and ran, even abandoning his sword. _Coward_. He would have never trusted that man with his dog let alone to lead a small battalion into a battle with the natives. It had been just his luck that this jumped up arse would be his commanding officer. Who ever thought he was Captain material needed to be shot. Put down permanently.

"I guess you just got promoted" Beni wheezed, another man not to be trusted but was handy to have on your side. A weasel able to steal anything worth his fancy and acquire useful information but one who was quick to back stab you. But he was right, for once, he was in charge now. He glanced around him, so many young men who would die in this battle and truly he would feel nothing for them. Charlie had always called him a heartfelt rock as a joke but he could relate to the poor rock. Didn't feel nothing come rain or shine, hard and tough. He did what he could to survive, to get by. There was no denying that emotions just got in the way. These men that kneeled shaking in the sand, they had his respect, nothing more than that. Getting attached only meant getting hurt. Every one ended up dying at some point. Their mother for example, everyone loved her, best mum in the world but then she died Charlie hadn't spoken for 2 weeks and they had stayed locked up in their room for much longer. He watched his sister cry herself to sleep every night in his arms and he wait moments later when she would inevitably scream. She had seen her die, he hadn't, Charlie had watched as her mother committed suicide. She had been unable to stop her, she had been tormented by that and sometimes still was. Ten seconds faster, a little louder. She had never gotten over it. Neither had their father. Before their mothers death he had been brilliant. The loving, caring, doting father. Never a harsh word fell past his lips; and she had been daddy's little girl, his little princess. But then there were the doubts, he blamed Charlie saying _she had always wanted mother dead_ or _that little bitch killed her, murderer_. He vented his frustration buy hitting her and beating her till she bled, he got the same. They had to fight their way out. Charlie limp in his arms with bruises blossoming over her cheeks. Every mark, every wimper she had made burned into his mind, scorching his retinas till it was that he saw. It was only them now, no family, no friends. Two children lost in the night. Life hadn't been easy, not that they had expected sunshine and rainbows, fighting had become routine. Well for him. Being a man he'd tried to spare her that, even if he couldn't spare her the feeling of desperate hunger or longing for a family that had broken apart before their eyes. They were fighters though, never giving up, taking down any enemy in their path. Right now, Bedouin warriors and he planned on coming out of it alive.

He scoffed at the oncoming enemy, good luck to any that comes up against him. Shouting for the legionnaires to ready themselves he shifted into a better position. "steady...steady...steady" _wait till the perfect time Rick, wait till they're up close_ "FIRE".

Guns discharged all around him covering the makeshift battlements in a light dusting of smoke. Horses from the oncoming rabble fell, toppling their riders and crushing others. Perfect, that's around 100 gone at least. Every man for himself now. He fired the rifle once more before abandoning it on the ground and, for want of a better word, ran like fuck. _Quickest way to get somewhere is in a straight line, well that's just great!_ He jumped over a fallen column and ripped out his pistols. Firing rapidly he slowly backed up. Five bullets in each gun, aim with purpose, oh fuck this! I'll shoot what I want to.

Backing up he watched the warriors take down some good men with their scimitars. _Shit_. Ran out of bullets, time to go! He madly dashed across the inner workings of the ruins to the entrance they had found earlier, spotting Beni ahead of him looking scared and confused. _Poor bastard_. "Run Beni RUN!" he screamed, he owed Beni. Damn weasle had saved his life a time or two.

Beni was ahead of him, no doubt his speed helped him with run ins with the law as well, and quickly made it to the open stone doorway. He darted inside like a fox._ No, that little piece of shite. _"Don't you close that door, DON'T YOU CLOSE THAT DOOR!" Too late, _damn him. _Rick turned around and kept running, swiping a pistol from the ground and fireing randomly. He could hear horses, six of them...coming his way. He made a detour and they followed. _God_ _dammit_. Guns were cocking, no time to go round. He jumped a fallen pillar using the base as a spring board. Unfortunately dropping the gun. _Bastard_. He reached for the gun but pulled his hand back as the sand was showered with bullets, better leave it then. Was a nice gun too. He launched himself up off the floor and ran through a stone arch, he hadn't seen this part of the lost city when he made his rounds earlier. Oh well no time for sight seeing.

The horses and their respective riders were closing in the gap, guess four legs are better than two. As Rick rounded the next corner he knew almost immediately that he was going to have to give up. Stopping in front of a blackened statue eroded by sand he turned and faced them. He would die facing the enemy, he would not die a coward at least Charlotte would have that. Jeeze he hadn't called her Charlotte since they were kids, _please forgive me Charlotte, please_. He closed his eyes waiting for the pain, horses neighing frantically, men calling out in their Arabic tongue...then silence. Pure silence, huh, was he dead? Slowly and cautiously he opened one eye...nothing but ruins, then the next eye. Well that's weird but hey no complaints in this department. Maybe the statue scared them off.

Tuning in shock of his lucky escape Rick looked up at the statue. _Some sort of jackal guy...did I just hear jackals barking? Must be going loopy._ That was weird, very weird. Rick glanced up to the face of the statue, narrowing his eyes a little against the glare of the sun. _Hum...Woah what the fuck, hey where's all this sand coming from, what the hell._ Rick stumbled out of the small sand storm he had just experienced. He was confused, scared and unnerved. It seemed impossible for all that sand to just, well, just rise off the ground like that. Never had he seen anything like it.

He stumbled away looking over his shoulder and saw a face, a face made out of the sand, as if screaming. He swore he could hear a screaming too. Now he was scared.

He ran as fast as he could out of that place, stopping only to get some food and water, as much as he could carry. Then he ran out into the expanse of the desert. He was afraid of what could lay underneath the sand, whatever it was it must be evil...or supernatural. What was he thinking, supernatural, ha he was turning into some superstitious git. Next thing you know he'd be rambling about some undead mummy coming to haunt everyone.

He was certain that he could feel eyes watching him, digging into the back of his head like searing needles of red hot fire. Slowly turning around and dreading what could be watching him, Rick scanned the horizon. Five men all clad in black sat on their horses staring at him from atop the desert cliff. Heavily clad with weapons, they were staring straight at him. A single shot could still kill him at this distance so he turned and ran, listening attentively till he had managed to hide behind a dune. That was strange. Well here goes on getting home...

~oOo~

**_Late afternoon _**

He had been walking all day, sand was in places where he had no intention of looking under this killer sun. The sky was crystal clear and deep blue, no forgiving clouds in sight. He was low on water, had no fuel for the night and no food. If this damn sun didn't kill him the freezing night would. No protection except the thin shirt, torn jacket, tight cotton pants and the blistering leather boots he wore.

Why did he agree to going to that city, the city of the dead, Hamunaptra. Oh yes he remembered now, he would of be killed otherwise. A whole battalion of rugged French soldiers against one man, even he couldn't have matched those odds. Now all those men were dead and he survived, the only one who didn't want to go searching for treasure. How quaint.

The sun was setting now and a cold chill was settling over the sand, here goes nothing. All he had to do was keep moving, keep the blood pumping and muscles working. It couldn't be that far to Cairo or some other small desert town. Even Bedouins or desert raiders. He strained his ears...no, nothing. A sudden chill was setting in now as the sun said her last goodbyes, leaving him to the mercy of her sister the moon. Shivering he pulled his ruined jacket closer around him, crossing his arms to keep it in tight. Stomping his feet as he moved, keeping his leg muscles warm. Head down closer to his body heat. _Shit was it cold, so cold, so very very cold. Wait...what was that?_ He could of sworn that was a horses braying carried by the wind, cautiousness over came curiosity as he pulled out his good pistol that he had recovered from Hamunaptra's ruins after the fight. Holding it outstretched he stopped moving.

"Boo!" He spun round and hit the trigger, it clicked empty. Before him was a silver horse, a singular colour and extremely rare in an Arabian. He knew that horse.

"Charlie? What are you doing out here?" he said stepping back and looking more closely at the rider. She was obviously feminine, even under all the robes that covered her body. Strands of long mahogany hair escaped her hood and blew lightly in the desert wind. A black piece of cloth covered her nose and mouth and her chocolate brown eyes shone out in the dark. He could see a scimitar protruding from her robes, golden hilted, he wondered who she had stolen that off. Then he could also tell by the way the material was situated that she had a couple of belts on holding, most likely, her favourite guns and her fighting daggers. That was his sister alright.

"You weren't going to shoot me Rick were you? Because that would be bloody unfortunate considering I came all this way to fucking find you!" she said in a deathly calm voice, yes defiantly his sister alright, it sent shivers of dread up his spine.

"Umm oops" He put in with a clown like smile plastered on his face. Sometimes he really regretted ever opening his mouth. She had always said it would get him into trouble someday, well here he was in the mouth of the lion.

"Very, well at least I've found you now." She dismounted the horse and took of the packs it carried. She set them down a few feet away in a clear piece of ground and gestured for his help. He quickly complied spotting the tent as he came over. That tent held a lot of memories; it was the same tent they had slept in for weeks after they had run away from home. The same one that they knew how to put up in the pitch dark from their time in the American mountains. The one they had carried across the ocean as they stowed away in a boat to Egypt where they would truly be free and here they were now. He unzipped the bag tipping the contents onto the sand glowed palely in the dark. It looked like new, as always.

While he set about doing the tent, his sister was lighting a fire. Her eyes never leaving his figure. She hadn't seen him for 6 months, the longest time they had ever been apart and she had missed him greatly. She flinched as the match she lit burnt her fingers but didn't drop it as she lit the fire. He was safe now, well they were both together anyways, and he wasn't leaving any time soon.

Charlie moved the pot over the fire and he watched, he'd finished the tent moments ago and was now securing the horse, not that it would ever run away. Charlotte had a thing with animals. A few days and they trusted her like they known her for years. It had been unnerving to begin with. Unnatural really, although it fitted her like a part of her soul. He had been so freaked when a sparrow had delivered a letter to him one morning, she'd found it hilarious. He guessed it was one of the many things that made her who she was and he loved her for it.

He pulled himself up and sat by her side, her face in the firelight glistened. She was crying. "God Rick, I'd thought I'd lost you. You...you don't know what it was like. For months I've been trying to get any information on where you had gotten too but there was nothing. Your commander came back this morning and told me you'd probably been k...k...killed by some Bedouin warrior. Or...or by the desert sun, or something. I've been riding round this damn desert since this morning when...when he told me. I've been so worried and was praying you'd be f...f...fine, but it was there at the back of my mind nagging me what if...what if you had been..." She broke down into sudden tears and he held her. He'd never thought that it would have this effect on her. Maybe if he had he would never of gone in the first place. Here she was so vulnerable and to him it was his fault. Words wouldn't help so he just held her till she was done crying. Rocking her back and forth like he did when they were children. She looked up at him and he smiled, earning one from her in response. Words weren't needed, they had a mutual agreement that whenever one of them broke down the other would be therefore them no questions asked. They had both broken down their fair share of times, him maybe more so. He remember the first time he had killed someone, it had tormented him for days on afterwards and she had always been there rocking him to sleep.

She turned away and continued to stir their food, soup. It was boiling merrily when she poured it into the deep bowls that she carried. It was still steaming when she handed it to him. He spooned a great deal in and nearly dropped the bowl.

"You do realise, right, that thing that come straight off a fire tend to be a smidgeon hot don't you?" She smirked at him, he scowled in reply earning a hearty laugh that lit up her face. "Dumb arse" she giggled. They went on throwing mindless sibling banter long into the night and by six the next morning were gone without a trace back to their home in Cairo.

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	2. Chapter 2

Ardeth Bay watched as the fight began, his heart ached for those who would die here today but he could spare no mercy, the secret needed to be protected, no one could survive. Gun shots pricked the air sending a line of curling white smoke up from the battlements, nearly a hundred warriors fell but it hardly made an imprint of their vast numbers. He watched, along with a few from the council and his most trusted warriors, as the large dust cloud, kicked up by the horse's hooves, entered the sacred ruins of Hamunaptra. They scoured the city clean, cutting down man after man. The French legionnaires no match for the curved scimitars and the horses speed. The screams hit the air like knives, but he stayed emotionless. Inside he was fighting his own eternal battle, was it right to kill so many, need they all die so horrifically? It was a needed precaution, no one could know what was hidden in the cities depths, no one could release this monster on the world. He, as always, questioned his ancestors actions in cursing this creature so causing their future descendants to be curse in turn to continuously watch over the dead city in fear of the monster buried within.

Looking on at the devastation laid bare before him, he suppressed a sigh. It had been a long week. Eyes straying up to his hawk and companion Horus he wished it had never come to this. Months ago he'd been free from this pressure. The dregs of childhood leaking away as a bot became a man. No stresses, no worries. It had been easy back then, back when he didn't have the concil breathing down his neck, to pretend that being cheif meant something. That is was more than mindless killing. As a child he had pictured himself as a warrior. Respected, feared and loved. A man his family could be proud of as he rode into battle with his scimitar raised high in the desert sun. But it wasn't like that at all. He'd decived himself into thinking it was than just sitting there watching as others, less important others, died in his place. His heart longed to be down there, fighting beside those who would lay their lives down for a cause that their ancestors had handed them.

Instead he sat like a gargoyle on the cliff watching the blood shed below.

The battle had not lasted long, those still standing quickly fled the ruins, they had no desire to be there. He stayed watchful. They had to be certain no one had survived. A broken man stumbled away from the ruins. How unlucky for him to have watched his brother be cut down like hay. His feet scuffed against the bloodied sand but immediately stopped and straightened, tuning to see them on the ridge.

"Should we kill him?" Ardeth watched as the man turned and tripped away from them, loathing the death that he had already caused he decided against ending this man's life under his own whims.

"No, the desert will kill him." With finality Ardeth turned his horse, Zameel, away from the hill top. The bells Bint-tel-nil, his sister, had woven into the halter sang with Zameels every movement. Sand swirled around both horse and riders as they rode off into the desert, the council following behind with speculative glances. Let them speculate and titter about his ineptitude, he had more important things to worry about.

As they sped down the slope of the cliff he called to one of his brothers. "Take the concil back to the encampment, there is something I must do."

He jerked the reins tightly, verring away from the others in a cloud of dusty sand. They would dislike not knowing what he was up to. Old men who thought too highly of themselves as they sat and watched the youth die in battles they had instigated. They were certainly not fans of a young chief who had designs of his own.

_**12 hours later**_

Ardeth had been riding throughout the night. Zameels flanks shivered with exertion underneath him, the bells on his harness chiming, reminicant of the high pitches of childhood laughter. As the biting chill of night settled heavily on the air a whinny carried faintly from behind the approaching due. It was follwed by a barely audible hushing.

Dismouting with a practiced leap, his landing cushioned by the windswept sand, Ardeth crept towards the ridge. He was one with the darkness, moving as little more than a shadow. Zameel pawed a the ground where he had been left and Ardeth glanced back at his companion. With a dark glare she shook his head at the horse whoes head bowed with gilt.

Despite how muched he loved his friend, he was easily the most impatient beast he had yet to meet.

With another warning glare he continues to the ridge, body pressed against the warmth of the sand.

What he saw left him shocked. There was a woman, her figure moving with a leathal grace in front of the dying embers of what must once have been a fire. He could only see her silhouette but he had a clear view of the beautiful stallion. Its pelt reflected the firey orange of the daying embers, but as its head shifted he caught a gleam of silver. The horse was an obvious Arabian, as the muscles trembled they gave away its thourabred origins.

He remained stationary, watching as the woman neared the firelight. Her features remained indisctint as she glanced out into the blackness. Strands of hair whiping about her form. He shifted, sand cascading down from the dunes crest. In mere seconds the stallions eyes met his own. Like below zero water he froze, muscles stiffening like drying concrete. Stallion and man stared across the sand. As their eyes connected the stallion let out a snorting breath before turning back to its mistress. Taking the oportunity he slid back down the ridge. Grabbing the reins of Zameel, he faded into the desert.

**_3 weeks later _**

It had been three weeks exactly since both Rick and Charlie had returned from the desert and it had been two weeks, six days since Rick had been chucked into Cairo prison, and it had been two weeks, four days since Charlie had found out and she was pissed, no livid, wait...murderous.

It had hardly been a day and Rick, the stupid bastard that he was, got thrown into jail for fighting in a brawl among, apparently, other numerous crimes that the warden had conveniently forgotten about when Charlie had the audacity to actually ask. She had been trying her best to buy him out but the fat-lazy-ass-good-for-fuck-all warden was having none of it. Angrily she kicked the wall, _fuck_, unfortunately she forgot that were not soft and now she had the throbbing foot to prove it. Cursing wildly she stormed out into the busy streets of Cairo.

There was always a market on, every day, the streets constantly plagued by carts, animals, and people all pushing a shoving their way to reach their own destinations. Air laden with incense, the aroma of Eish Masri, a type of hearty Egyptian bread, Samak mashwy, grilled fish, and her personal favourite Mahshi waraa enab which was a concoction of rice with sauteed ground beef seasoned with Egyptian spices stuffed in a cooked grape vine leaf, she bought one. Nimbly she weaved her way through the crowd in the direction of Cairo prison. If she couldn't get Rick out through bargaining then she would break him out, there was no way in hell or heaven that she would lose her best friend and only family member.

She stopped at a small alcove, reaching in she pulled out the tool she would need. It was a system that she and Rick had developed. Cairo was a large city and it would be a waste of effort to continuously return to their home when they wanted something, not to mention you don't want to lead those with ill intentions to your door. By concealing objects in particular places it allowed them to move throughout the whole city and it reassured Rick that if she got in trouble, because they hid guns and ammunition in these places as well, she'd always have something to defend herself with. She'd scoffed at that, like she didn't carry enough weapons around with her at his request.

Out of habit she studied the people around her. An old lady selling a soup, she had three children, as the western tourists stopped to look at her produce the children robbed them. A shifty looking man who was selling rip off jewellery, a drunken rogue picking food of the street hardly fit for a rat. Tourists oblivious to their missing goods enjoying the 'life and liveliness' of Cairo city. She laughed quietly when a young boy bumped into one knocking him to the ground and while he helped him up the boys sister robbed the man. That's what she and Rick used to do, they called it double teaming; they'd been so young back then, too young really for what they did.

Shaking the onslaught of memories from her head she continued on determined that Rick would make it out of that hell hole.

~oOo~

Heavy booted footsteps moved closer to his cell, he'd been in here for over two weeks, when he found that rat who started that brawl he'd punch in square between the eyes. Charlie must of been worried sick, that or she was beyond pissed at him. It wasn't his fault, not really. Okay he was drunk, and sure he'd decided to play cards, and alright he'd cheated, and okay he'd acctually thrown the first punch the fight but what can he say, he was only looking for a good time after the hell he'd been through, surely he'd earn't it.

The footsteps stopped outside his door.

"Hello boys missed me already." He winced as they roughly grabbed him chucking him into the outside enclosure of the cell.

"What, what is this man in for?" Ooo goodie visitors.

"He'd said he was looking for a good time." The guards shoved him roughly again.

"Who's the broad?" He'd never seen these two people in his life, so he asked the obvious question. Apparently, if the sharp intake of breath and the standoffish retort, she'd taken offense. Not his fault.

"Actually this is my sister."

"Not a total loss then."

"I beg your pardon?" she sounded offended...ha!

The warden interrupted whatever she was about to retort. "I'll be back in a moment!"

Calming down slightly Evelyn moved closer to the cell, knowing that Jonathan will only muck about, unsure of how to start the convocation she stammered. "We...um...we found your puzzle box and we've come to ask you about it."

_No they haven't, they've come to ask about Hamunaptra. _He thinks to himself. "No"

"No" Evelyn questions, shock and disappointment evident on her face.

"No...you've come to ask me about Hamunaptra." Rick watches in amusement as brother and sister look around in fear that anyone heard him, they unconsciously remind him of his own sister who was quietly sneaking in through the gate of the prison...what?!

"How do you know the box pertains to Hamunaptra?"

"Because that's where I was when I found it!" He's not really involved in the convocation but instead watching his sister sneak past the guards, Oh he was going to kill her when they got home, that's if she didn't kill him first, of course.

"How do we know that's not a load of pig swallow?" Losing sight of Charlie Rick turns to look at the man, he was sure he'd seen him somewhere before, he was certain of it.

"Do I know you?" Rick arrows his eyes, searching this man's face.

"Um...well you see...I...I just have one of those faces—." Launching his fist out he connected the dots, or rather flesh. Rick did recognise him, the man who'd stolen from him. Well mission accomplished—_OW. _Rick cursed under his breath as his forehead connected with the unforgiving metal bars, he turned slightly glaring at the guard.

"You were actually at Hamunaptra?" There was something about the way that she completely ignored her brother, stepping over his unconscious body that reminded him of Charlie, this girl had spunk, that was for sure.

Smiling slightly at her boldness he replied. "Yeah I was there."

"You swear?"

"Every damn day." Jesus Charlie's sarcasm was really wearing off on him.

"No that's not what I mean—"

"I know what you mean. I was there, alright, Seti's place. City of the dead."

She moved closer. "Could you...could you tell me how to get there?"

Charlie was going to kill him for this, but then again he was probably dead already. "You really want to know?" He said drawing her closer.

"Yes!" She was too eager, he motioned her closer till she was inches away from him. Forcefully grabbing her chin he kissed her full on the mouth, she wasn't bad.

"Then get me the hell out of here!" The guards grabbed his upper arms dragging him out of the cell. "Do it lady." The door closed. Rick expected to end up back in his own cell but when they continued to drag him towards the courtyard he started to get a bit nervous. "Uh lads the cells back that way?" He said unsure of himself.

"You're not going to the cell, you're going to take a one way trip to hell where you belong." One word...SHIT!

~oOo~

**_Same day, same place_**

Oh he was dead, a goner, and she was going to enjoy every moment of killing him. Charlie was shocked that he'd do such a thing. She moved closer to the woman and the warden.

"Where are they taking him?"

"To be hanged, it seems he had a very good time."


End file.
